


Find me

by Maveim



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Case Fic, Depression, Drunk Sex, Gay Disaster Gavin Reed, Hank Anderson & Connor Friendship, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Nightmares, Not Beta Read, Possessive Upgraded Connor | RK900, Protective Hank Anderson, Some Humor, Suicidal Thoughts, Swearing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-29
Updated: 2020-09-02
Packaged: 2021-03-07 00:48:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,905
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26168149
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maveim/pseuds/Maveim
Summary: Connor has disappeared without a trace, leaving Hank alone and depressed. He spends his days blocking and unblocking Gavin, he's not sure there's a way out of this hell since the disapparition of his friend. Will this new case guide Anderson to Connor, or will it only confirm his terrible doubts ?
Relationships: Hank Anderson & Connor, Hank Anderson/Connor/Upgraded Connor | RK900/Gavin Reed, Hank Anderson/Gavin Reed, Hank Anderson/Upgraded Connor | RK900, Upgraded Connor | RK900/Gavin Reed
Kudos: 8





	1. SW's Bar

**Author's Note:**

> Hello ! At first, this chapter was supposed to have way more content, but it kept getting longer and longer which is why it was cut here ! I still think it's worth reading, this chapter is maybe a bit more slow, just to set stuff up. The timeline is kind of ambiguous, but it happens after androids get rights in the peaceful revolution ! I really hope you will like it ! English is not my first language and I am concious the quality could have been slightly better if it was written in my first language, but hey, we all make choices !

It was in a street, at night. A cold, biting one. The kind that takes root into the body, between the ribs, that dips its rotten limbs into the organs, the heart especially. The view that Hank had didn’t help. Something horrifying, something incredibly disgusting, he blinked once, twice. Even a third time as anxiety, no, not anxiety, as terror started to settle in. To attack every single individual piece of flesh of his tired body.   
  
Speaking of bodies, here it was, in front of him. He should be fine, he should be okay. He saw those every week, it was fine, it was okay. It was just another corpse. It was just another one. But it was not, it fucking wasn’t. It was Connor. Connor laying on the cracked asphalt. His friend was dead.   
  
The old man came closer, his eyes focusing on the android’s face, he looked peaceful, like he was asleep, if you forgot the blue hole in his forehead. Hank looked around, at the sky, at the buildings, at the streets, he didn’t know what he was looking for, he just wanted a sign, a hint, anything. His detective instinct and methodology completely left him. He was without landmarks, he was alone.

Or was he ?

Sundely, he caught something from the corner of his eye, a shadow. Without even thinking about it, he started running after it, chasing it, there was something inside of him that was pushing him to that, he didn’t call anyone, he simply left Connor’s body here.    
  


It was fast, it was clearly outrunning him, the man felt like he was perpetually out of reach, like the same meter difference was staying the same between them. Surprisingly, Hank didn’t seem to be lacking endurance, he was still sprinting at full speed. Normally, he would have clearly stopped or slowed down after a few minutes, his health and his age didn’t really help with that. Maybe that was the sign he needed, maybe that was that thing that murdered his young friend. Determined but running on anger, he was still after the shadow as he saw it disappeared behind a wall after a sharp turn to the right. He couldn’t complete his as he was projected against the ground violently, someone over him, smaller and lighter, punching his face with an unexpected strength. It broke his nose. Grabbing Hank by his coat, it slammed his head against the ground, once, twice. Even a third time. That’s at this moment that the old man could nearly believe he heard something, a whisper, a soft call, from a soft voice, saying his name, needing him.    
  
‘’Hank, Hank, please. Please Hank, I don’t want to die.’’   
  
Connor ? Was it Connor ? God knows it sounded like him. Another hit, a less precise, more painful and violent one. Where was he ? His vision was blurry, he could barely see his aggressor. Barely. Anderson tried to ignore it for a few seconds, his subconscious probably filled with a form of gilt or something but…   
  
The man over him looked exactly like Connor. But it couldn’t be, right ? Connor had soft eyes, nice hair and a gentle face. Nothing to do with the angry traits that were deforming the face of this person. No, it couldn’t be Connor, decided Hank. It was only someone that looked extremely like him. There was no way in hell it was Connor. The android was his friend, his partner. They were in there together until death would tear them apart. Like now. ‘’Anderson…’’ Him again, the one over him, even copying the young man’s voice to perfection, this time with a twist of irritation, of hate. ‘’Anderson… I hate you, I hate you so much.’’

The said Anderson didn’t even feel the gun that was put against his forehead. No, it was impossible, Connor had been reprogrammed or some shit, Connor didn’t hate him, right ? He was the one who would pet his dog, disprove his nutrition and save his fucking life. No way Connor hated him.   
  
‘’I wish you were dead.’’ was the last thing the man heard before the familiar sound of a trigger being pulled. Blackout. The universe had claimed him back.   
  


* * *

It was a day off. Something rare enough for him. Despite always being late, he didn’t like taking official days off, it felt wrong, in an indescribable way. Maybe he just didn’t like them. Like he didn’t like those weird dreams of his. He was recalcitrant to call those nightmares. Nightmares were stupid things, fabricated ones with unstopable monsters. Nightmares had no chance to happen in real life and none of them gave this terrible sensation of déjà-vu. Hank knew this scenario never happened, of course, he knew he never found the android’s body and that Connor never killed him or anything but… He was anxious, he would admit. Since Connor’s strange disparition, the human had been alone, and had been feeling very isolated and vulnerable. Which is something he hated too, even if he had been conscious of it. Somewhere, deep down, maybe in the wrong part of his brain, a small, terrifying idea had started to sprout. Maybe Connor really hated him. Maybe Connor left, without a note, without saying anything because he hated Hank, maybe the deviant android had been done with Hank’s attitude and ungratefulness towards him. It was a very real possibility. He would have erased every trace that would have allowed Anderson to find him and he would have left, somewhere, maybe in New Jericho, in a building somewhere, maybe he even went to Canada, moved anywhere as long as it was far away from the Lieutenant. The man didn’t drink last night, surprisingly, but he was feeling very sick. Worse than any hangover. He needed to do something, anything to make those dangerous thoughts leave his mind. 

He stood up from his bed, got out and instantly grabbed Sumo’s bowls. The dog was still asleep, deeply. Normally this view would make him smile, even just a bit, but it wouldn’t leave. The sensation wouldn’t leave him alone. The anxiety, the guilt. The will to just let his body hit the ground and cry. Oh, Hank was really tempted to do that. Maybe it would feel good. Maybe he would forget it all. He changed the water of the bowl and put food in the other one, alerting his dog that seemed to have opened his eyes. The man sat next to his dog against the wall, his hand lazily scratching his head. ‘’Who’s a good boy ?’’ He asked, trying to cheer himself up. Sumo barked back to him, satisfied, his tail wiggling in a fast and regular motion. ‘’Eh, yeah. That’s what I thought.’’ He smiled at the animal in relief, at least he wasn’t completely alone, the saint-bernard was here. It’s not like Hank needed anyone else. He was doing already very well before Connor entered his life. Even later on, when the android became a deviant, when they exchanged words, thoughts, feelings, when this friendship formed itself, never Hank would have imagined that Connor would stay. Why would he ? Once Connor awakened, it was obvious he was going to leave, to explore the world. The man shouldn’t have expected anything, and he didn’t. He really didn’t.    
  
Growling, Hank dragged himself to the bathroom, switching the light on, he took a quick look into the mirror, he looked horrible, as usual. Maybe he looked more tired than usual, a bit closer to death this precise day, but it didn’t really matter. He was feeling the same, he was the same old guy as always. He looked over to the bathtub, hesitating to take a shower, maybe it would help waking him up ? He closed the door, not wanting to be bothered and quickly undressed. It honestly felt like the first time in years since his last as the warm water brought him immediate appeasement. Maybe today wouldn’t be that bad, maybe it could actually be a good, tolerable day.

Closing his eyes, he let himself relax to the sounds around him, his head resting against the wall. He stayed like this for multiple, long minutes. He would have fallen asleep if it wasn’t for the barking of his dog, mixing itself with the sound of the shower, which seemed to become louder and louder, probably just an impression. 

He got out and went to his bedroom, leaving his old clothes on the bathroom’s floor, he would take care of them later. He put on some comfy clothes, red sweatpants and a long sleeves shirt that he completed with a pair of dark green crocs. He opened the door leading to the garden and with a gesture of the hand, he invited his dog to get out. He grabbed a tennis ball next to the barbecue and sat on the terrace. Hank started to throw the object to Sumo, who seemed very excited by the idea of playing with his master. 

Deep into his thoughts, the man kept repeating the movement, throwing, getting back, throwing again. It really did not seem to make the Saint-Bernard tired though, he was clearly having the time of his life.

The sound of a notification pulled Hank from his daydreaming. Gavin.    
  
Asshole : u have plans or smt   
  
MrOld : yes. 

Asshole : like what   
  


MrOld : not seeing you. chilling with my dog. living a happy life. watching vines maybe.   
  
Asshole : haaaaaaaaankkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkk   
  
MrOld : can you stop spamming me, the noises are spooking my dog

  
Asshole : s   
  
Asshole : u   
  
Asshole : c   
  
Asshole : k   
  
Asshole : m   
  
Asshole : y   
  
Asshole : d   
  
Asshole : i   
  
Asshole : c   
  
Asshole : k

MrOld : one last word before i block you coward

Asshole : justcometosw’sbarokaythankspleasetakeashower

`Hank Anderson [MrOld] has blocked Gavin Reed [Asshole] !`

And it’s how it usually went, Hank would unblock him later at some point, probably tomorrow or later that night. The longest he lasted was a week, only because it was necessary for work, of course, not that there was any kind of deepness to it. The man regretted having taken a shower, he could have annoyed Gavin by not taking one at all, maybe he would have even given Sumo some extra love, just to make sure to smell unpleasant. Of course, a normal observer would have said that those mind games were going too far, that they were probably hiding something painful but honestly, if Hank could, he would clearly dive in a dumpster if he could have annoyed his colleague. He was petty like that.

The invitation was still wandering into his mind. SW’s Bar ? He took a look at it on his phone, he never heard of it strangely enough despite his good knowledge of the city, especially its bars. Fortunately, the internet had the answers to his questions.   
  
‘’Sweet Wrecking Bar’’   
‘’Sawyer’s bar’’   
  
There were two of them. That was annoying. He checked over the reviews of each one, Gavin would obviously invite him to the less well reviewed, another way to pass a message, even if, of course, there were no messages, only whatever bullshit there was between them.

‘’Sweet Wrecking Bar : 4,6 stars’’   
‘’Sawyer’s bar : 2,6 stars’’   
  
Ah ! Even the actual comments left very little place to the imagination…   
  
‘’Terrible place ! Smell bad, ugly, dirty ! The owner is also really rude. :/ I wouldn’t come back.’’ - Jane Baker

_ The owner has answered to this review _

‘’how the hell do you delete peoples comments   
how i deactivate reviews

fuck   
mcdonald near me’’ - Sawyer Grenier-Lévesque

Seems like a choice someone who loves creatures such as cats would make.

* * *

Finding the bar had been a bit difficult, the address was clearly not up to date and Hank had to walk between the questionable allays for at least 25 minutes, when he entered the building, his colleague was already waiting for him.

‘’You took your time.’’ He growled, probably already drunk, a whiskey in his hand

There weren't many people here. Two men were sitting in the background, talking quietly in what Hank assumed to be Korean. Except them and the barman, Gavin and Hank were the only ones here.    
  
‘’Well, maybe if you chose a place that I know where it was, I could have been there sooner, you know ?’’ Answered the older man, glaring in an annoyed way at Reed.

The younger man didn’t even answer to him, he called out loudly the barman.   
  
‘’Give the guy here something good !’’ He sounded even more drunk. 

The barman executed his task, he was quick, careless, but Hank didn’t have great expectations when coming here. His drink was ready barely a few seconds after Gavin’s order. The detective smelled it, he couldn’t tell what it was and even if it was some kind of cocktail, his actual content was still a mystery for him. The first sip was even weirder, a taste completely unknown, not bad, but Hank would have liked to know what he was putting into his body. 

‘’So… How are you ?’’ gave Hank as an ice-breaker, he knew Gavin wasn’t in his best shape because of what happened recently. An undercover job. They hadn’t really talked about it.

‘’I’m fine…’’ he mumbled, looking back at his colleague with a strange light in his eyes. Hank didn’t feel particularly comfortable. He wasn’t good at this, at trying to find what was wrong with people, what was haunting them at night. He wasn’t even better at helping them, he couldn’t even help himself.

They drank without speaking, their only interaction being their arms touching each other from time to time on accident. The light was jumping, probably too old, slowly dying off. At some point, it would stay turned off. The sound of ice against glass was what made Hank realise it was already empty. He asked for another one, something different. The look that the barman gave him was indecipherable, he felt like the man was laughing at him.

Purple. He was given something purple, weirder and better than the drink than before. Feeling already the alcohol getting to his head, he decided to insist a bit.

‘’Have you… been seeing someone ?’’ It was supposed to be a small talk kind of question, but sounded kind of weird to ask that. 

‘’No. What about you ?’’ At least he got an answer.

‘’No, never… Eh, you know me.’’ Not really, maybe a bit, they knew each other supercifilly, but they weren’t really friends or anything, they weren’t a thing either.

Gavin only gave him silence back. Why was he so stubborn ? It was starting to be annoying. Was he doing that on purpose ? Probably. How shitty of him. Gavin really sucked. 

The korean men stood up, they looked pretty young, younger than his colleague, both with long black hair and formal clothes, which seemed very out of place in the bar. They came near the bar and one of them whispered something as he was paying their orders.   
  
‘’On se voit demain ?’’ He asked, carefully   
  
‘’Ouin, à un moment donné.’’ Answered the barman, a smirk on his face   
  
The two men in formal clothing then left without saying anything else. Hank didn’t speak either French or Korean, in fact, his knowledge of only one language and a few spanish words would have made him cringe if he was sober, but his mind wasn’t in the correct place for now. It could easily be explained by the empty glass in front of him. 

‘’Give me something strong, kid.’’ He asked the man behind the bar, which smiled slyly at him in return as he put in front of him something blue. Hank could have sworn the drink was laughing at him too. It was strong, even too strong for him but he had something to prove, or at least, he thought so. But to who ? To who, that, he didn’t know. The actual thing was still a complete mystery to him though. It was making him frustrated.

‘’Gavin… You work tomorrow ?’’ He asked, on a passive-aggressive tone, he wasn’t really proud of it. It didn't stop him from doing that on purpose anyway.

‘’Yeah, you ?’’ He seemed drunker and drunker every time he was talking.

‘’Nah.’’

Silence again. Hank was starting to have enough of that crap. He wasn’t just annoyed or frustrated, he was angry.   
  
‘’Reed, I’m telling you, if you made me came into this shithole just to be an untalkative drunk-ass, I’m leavin’ now and I’m tellin’ ya, don’t count on me to unblock you after that, you dumbass.’’

The younger man gave him a disinterested look, he didn’t seem very bothered by the idea. The barman, on the other hand, was looking at Hank with curiosity. His colleague continued in the silence. 

‘’Sooooo, y’all are fuckin’ ?’’ asked the barman, seemingly amused by this whole situation, a slight accent on his tongue. It did seem to be enough for Gavin to react, furiously glaring at him.

‘’That’s not your business, frog.’’ Even added the younger man, a complete sentence ! A racist one, but a complete one, wow ! Hank’s jaw dropped.    
‘’Listen you lil american fucker, if ya invite your boyfriend somewhere and then just be a disrespectful fuckhead, ya ain’t should be surprised when he’ll leave ya, y’know ? Just sayin’.’’ 

Gavin stood up, or at least tried to, he seemed to be having a hard time keeping his balance.

‘’You weirdo, we’re not… together ! You know what ? I’m fucking done, we’re leaving, Anderson.’’ His colleague grabbed his wrist, pulling him out of the place. Hank just had the time to throw a one hundred dollar bill to the barman before disappearing behind the door. This seemed like a great place, five stars, would come back for Hank.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello ! This chapter is longer than the last one ! Thanks for the kudos ! I hope you'll enjoy this one too !

They ended up at Gavin’s place together. His colleague sat on the couch, still angry and swearing under his breath.

‘’Fucking asshole…’’ Hank layed down on the couch and closed his eyes, tomorrow was going to be hell, he was happy to have a day off tomorrow too. The younger man pushed the detective’s legs away, the couch being already small, it was certainly annoying to be even more reduced in space because some idiot decided to nap here.‘’Can you not ?!’’ Anderson didn’t even answer to this, it was his turn to play the game of silence. He also made sure to put his legs back to their original place, he was going to insist a lot.

Gavin had less patience than him and threw himself over his colleague, probably ready to punch him in the nose. His body being affected by his numerous drinks at the bar, his fist ended in the wooden table next to the couch, followed by a broken scream. The older man’s drunk brain thought this situation was very funny, even if it was more kind of sad and pathetic, he let out a small laugh, which only seemed to make Gavin angrier. He tried to hit him again, aiming lower this time, resulting in punching the hard arm of the couch. Another scream and a groan. Gavin’s head fell against Hank’s chest as he was holding his own fist, visibly in pain. 

The older detective was ready to sleep right there, already feeling his mind drift off to peaceful nothingness when he felt lips crash against his neck. He growl.    
‘’Reed, what the fuck are you-’’ He didn’t even complete his sentence, his mind to foggy to make any sense with this situation. It wouldn’t be the first time they do it, it probably wouldn’t be the last and it’s not like he had to go to work tomorrow, Gavin had to, though. If he could make his tomorrow morning worse, he certainly would. That’s why he kissed his neck too in return. It was going to be a long night.

  
  


* * *

  
  


The detective had no idea why he woke up so early, probably because Gavin made so much noise while leaving his place, probably just to annoy the fuck out of him. Contrary to what Hank would have expected, he felt bizarrely energized. He was pretty sure the alcohol would have made him live his worst hangover to date, but no. None of that, especially at his age. He was really wondering what was in that stuff… No headache, no nausea, only a clear mind, how weird ! The only logical explanation was that he died in his sleep, his body incapable of supporting the drinks and that he was now a ghost haunting his colleague’s place. Dear god, that sounded awesome. 

Sadly, reality made itself acknowledged as he pinched himself. Too bad. 

He stood up too fast, he felt younger by ten years and nearly fell on the floor by the inertia of his movement. He walked quickly to the kitchen in a second state and opened the pantry more violently than intended. He grabbed a few granola bars and put them in the pockets of his coat, it would be useful later, maybe. His own fridge and pantry were very empty since multiple days. He also grabbed a half-empty bag of chips for right now. Sitting at the table, he started eating his way too salty breakfast, his brain stripped of thoughts. He felt strangely at peace, like everything was fine, like nothing bad ever happened. 

Once he was done, he threw the empty bag into the trash bin and went into the direction of the bathroom. Closing the door behind him, he decided to take a shower, which he didn’t do normally when he was at Gavin’s place. As he was undressing, something caught his eyes, one of the tiles on the floor seemed unsealed and was moving each time he put his foot too close. Was it new ? He didn’t notice it last time he came here. Did Reed drop something here ? He looked around, looking for pieces of glass or tiles, or anything that could hint that something broke here, but nothing. The tile still looked very clean, like it was removed voluntarily. Without thinking twice, Hank removed the piece, what he saw made him raise an eyebrow. 

Was that… No it couldn’t be. Could it ? It wasn’t what he thought it was, right ? It was the hangover, he was still drunk. He put the tile back, it wasn’t his business. He quickly dressed back and left the room, he needed to leave, he couldn’t stay there. He couldn’t talk to Gavin about it, even if he knew it was needed. Not now, not today. Later, another night, when they would both be drunk to death, it would slip up on its own, Gavin would start yelling, they would fight, forget and never talk about it ever again, it would be awkward. Good, sounded like a plan. 

He was walking outside under the sun, he wanted to go back home, he didn’t bother calling a taxi. There was too much going on in his head. 

The first thing he did once he was home was hug Sumo. God, he needed that. Hank mechanically did his usual task, fresh food and water. He hesitated giving his dog a bath, but finally decided to go walk outside in the opposite direction of Gavin’s place. Sumo was excited to go outside and it made the man’s heart heat up a bit, it was them, only them. No need for anyone else. No android, no drug addicts, no… children. Yeah, it was enough for him. It was fine.

Once he was back home, Sumo and he did the same thing, nap. Hank didn’t even bother removing his shoes as he crashed on his messy bed. The surface was so soft. He wasn’t expecting to be gone for so long, the walk lasted for maybe two hours and it was still too early for him. He deserved some more sleep.

  
  
  


* * *

The kitchen, at the table. Him and a guest. A cold one. Hank is eyeing it, observing it, he’s thinking about it. About him, about them. He’s thinking about every choice he has made, every moment like this where he hesitated, where he didn’t do it, where he didn’t do anything. The truth is, he is scared. He is scared he won’t do it, but thinking about doing it seems even more terrifying. There are always consequences to the actions of a man. Sooner or later. Sometimes you know when, sometimes you don’t. Sometimes, it’s like Hank, you don’t know jackshit. You know you won’t be remembered. You know that no one will mourn you. There are no consequences to losing you, no one cares about your loss. It’s okay, it’s fine. It is how things should be. It is what he deserves. The consequences to his past actions are that there are no consequences to his present actions. To this action. His guest wants to shake hands with him. The detective hesitates. He doesn’t know. He doesn’t know if he likes the idea of no consequences, of an empty dull void. As his hand gets closer to his guest’s, he could swear he hears Sumo bark. His dog is there, somewhere. Hank looks around, he doesn’t see him, he’s not here. It’s all in his head. The man starts to think he’s going crazy, maybe he already is. He needs to find Sumo. There will be consequences if he does this now, he cannot let his dog suffer from his hands, even indirectly. Hank wants to live.   
  
The detective pushes his guest’s hand away, he gets up from his chair. He walks in his house, searching something, someone. Sumo. He can hear the barking getting louder, Sumo searches him too. The bathroom, his dog is in the bathroom, Hank can hear him. The door isn’t even closed but it seems so heavy suddenly. The man pushes on it with all his body, he’s worried. He’s scared. He wants to see his dog. He needs to tell him he’s okay, that he’s there. 

Finally.    
  
The door breaks in two as if a bull had charged it, even the walls seem to crack all around, the house is taken by violent shakes. Hank can hear glasses and plates break from where he is. 

Inside, no trace of his dog but something caught his attention. On the mirror of the bathroom, a post-it and an inscription. 

‘’ _ You should have pulled the trigger, Lieutenant. _ ’’

Anderson backed off, in shock. What did this mean ? He couldn’t even take the time to process the information when he saw something moving from the corner of his eyes. The bathtub. Hank squinted, trying to see better. Were those clothes ? Android clothes ? So many clothes, it was filled with them. He recognized the code on one of the jackets.  _ RK800 _ .

The heap was moving, shaking like the house as something came out of it with difficulty, as if the clothing was thick mud. A skinless android, looking at him, coming closer with a light in its eyes. Hank never saw an android looking like that before, its facial construction felt similar, like he saw it in the past, like he looked at it multiple times before. It looked soft, goofy, maybe. It looked a lot like Connor. 

The android put its hand on his shoulder. ‘’Lieutenant, you must find me. I’m not dead, Lieutenant. I need your help.’’

It was Connor.   


* * *

  
Hank has been scrolling on his phone for a while, or at least, that’s what he would have been doing if he had any social media. For now he was busy putting keywords together in search engines in the hope of having an answer to his questions.

_ can androids die _

_ do aliens kidnap androids _

_ can androids communicate by dreams _

_ skinless android _

_ do androids feel pain _

_ what do androids need to live _

_ where should i search a disappeared android _

_ should i kill myself _

_ connor _

_ rk800 _

_ connor rk800 _

_ connor rk800 cyberlife police detroit  _

_ can someone help me _

Sadly for Anderson, it really seemed like the answers he was seeking couldn’t be answered by the usage of his phone. Maybe alcohol would be better. He went to the kitchen and grabbed a bottle, an old one, whiskey. He sat on the couch, mindlessly watching the tv. This was going to be a long night. He was already tired and more than anything, he felt so old. 

  
  
  


__

* * *

The sound of his ringing phone forced him to wake up. Fowler. Growling, Hank picked the phone call, he didn’t really have a choice, maybe it would help him to go to work early. He knew it probably wouldn’t, but it would make time pass faster, he supposed. 

‘’Hank ? Can you come earlier ? There’s something I’d like to talk about. You’re not in trouble or anything.’’ 

The detective was amused by the way his boss quickly added the last sentence, as if he may believe Anderson would care as if he would be yelled at or not. Maybe it was a trap ? Maybe he was actually more in trouble than ever. Did Gavin discover that Hank found out about what he was in the bathroom ? Did he go see Fowler and trash talked him in hope of getting him fired ? It was a possibility, but it did not seem plausible. His young colleague wasn’t that subtle, he was more blunt, more direct. If he had a problem with him, he would have come to him directly. Or as sonner predicted Hank, Gavin would find out later, when they would both be completely drunk. This time, though, Hank would like to believe there was no trap. 

‘’Sure… Lemme just… Hrr… I’m coming right away.’’

‘’Good, see you there.’’

Then he hang up. Hank hesitated to take some painkillers for a minute, but all the ones he had were in the bathroom. He didn’t want to go there. He’d buy a new box on his way to work. He verified he still had his stolen granola bars and filled a bottle of water for later. Giving a last look to his dog, he left for work.

  
  


* * *

  
  


If Hank already had a headache, it was only made worse by what was waitting for him by his desk. First, of course, Gavin, who probably wanted to either take his life or his granola bars, which he would get neither. And… something, someone else. Something Hank decided to ignore until he got proper explanations from Reed.   
  
‘’Lieutenant Anderson, it’s a pleasure to meet you, I am Conan, I am Detective Reed’s new partner. I hope we will be able to work together harmoniously.’’   
  
That’s at this precise moment the thing Hank wanted to avoid decided to talk and that’s at this moment that the old man decided to turn around and go back to the main door. He would manage all that at another moment, he didn’t have the energy for that today. 

‘’ANDERSON.’’

Hank turned around again, Fowler who did a gesture of the hand towards him, wanting him to join him in his office. Hank gave in, unwillingly.

Despite being alone with his boss, the detective felt watched and he was right about it. Conan’s eyes seemed to look through him from behind the half covered glass, creepy. He’d had to talk to Gavin about it.

‘’Hank, I have a case for you. It’s about androids. Apparently, a psycho is roaming around mutilating them. I know it’s been a while since you’ve been on a case like that but you’re the most experienced here about this topic. You understand ?’’ Asked Jeffrey at the end, probably wanting to avoid the man making a scene like the first time he was attributed an android related mission. Surprisingly, none of that, no yelling, no gesticulation, only a nod.    
  
‘’Sure.’’

It made Fowler sigh in relief, finally happy to not have to fight his employees. 

‘’There’s a folder for you about that on your desk. All we know is in there.’’

Hank didn’t say anything, didn’t move for a few seconds before blinking. He didn’t want to go to his desk and face Gavin and Conan. It was with a terrible migraine that he left his boss’s office.

He was immediately greet by : 

  
‘’Lieutenant Anderson, it’s a pleasure to meet you, I am Conan, I am Detective Reed’s new partner. I hope we will be able to work together harmoniously.’’

Hank couldn’t help but give Conan a bad look and despite doing so, he didn’t actually  _ look _ at him. He was purposefully ignoring his actual appearance, he wanted to ignore him. He wanted him to shut up. Hank also gave a look to Gavin, an annoyed one, as usual, with maybe even a touch of real anger and confusion, but Reed didn’t seem to notice it, in fact, he wasn’t even looking at his colleague. He seemed to be looking at an invisible point, a crack in the air, maybe. The three of them stayed in a deep silence for a dozen of seconds. Hank could feel the eyes of Conan on him and he wasn’t looking back. He didn’t want to.

‘’Oh, hey… Hank. Yeah… This is Conan… We’re… partners since… yesterday.’’

Gavin finally spoke. The tone of his voice was worrying, strange, far away, as if he was in another dimension. Anderson was shocked, he didn’t understand. What happened to him ?

Conan held out his hand towards Hank.   
  
‘’Detective Reed and I had plans for tonight, we think it would be profitable to have a third advice, would you like to join us after work, Lieutenant Anderson ? We would go to Detective Reed’s place.’’ Hank frowns but that doesn’t stop him from reaching out to Conan’s hand.    
‘’That won’t be possible. Maybe next time.’’ He tries to stay calm, he really does, but then, he makes the mistakes of looking at the android in the eyes and then he sees the rest of his face. He looks so much like Connor. He looks so much like him, it hurts. The differences are there and of course, Anderson knows that’s not Connor, just like Connor is not Cole, but under the light, under Hank’s hangover, all those minor differences seem to fly away, gone in a hit of the wind.

  
‘’That’s a shame, Lieutenant, but as I see…’’ he looks at the folder on Hank’s desk, ‘’you seem very busy at the moment. I wish you a good day.’’ Pulling Gavin’s by the arm, Conan leaves, drowns himself behind a wall of people in uniforms. Hank doesn't know what to think. Like a reflex, he immediately unblocks his colleague, he is not sure why yet, but he wants to talk to Gavin as soon as possible, alone.

He sits at his desk, his head still pounding, he opens the folder and is immediately appalled by what he sees. Pictures, lots of them which speak by themselves, a lot of reports, some maps but nothing from a witness or a victim. Hank just stares at the pictures, his mind filled with incoherent thoughts, he’s not sure what to think, he’s not sure where to start. He gives another look to the first picture, the vision is awful to look at. The side of an android, their bare skin mutilated to form letters, words.    
  
_ USELESS _

_ FAILURE _

The second is similar, this time on the chest area.   
  
_ WHORE _

_ CHEATER _

Those are not the only ones, there’s a least three others, each time with different words, graved the same way. The reports were vague, not very detailed, giving Hank nearly zero information about the victims. The only thing he got out of it was that all of them were homeless deviants who have been in the outside world since even before the revolution. Also, all of them either auto destructed or disappeared without a trace. As he continued his reading, Anderson was constituting the portrait of the case. The five pictures they had were of androids that auto destructed themselves but a larger number simply disappeared. The five deviants being homeless ones, it was logical to conclude that the missing ones were also attacked the same way than them. There were so many of them that Hank was having two theories. Either the person was alone and this had been happening slowly over time or it was a group. The detective was still disgusted, how could anyone do this ?

As he was looking through the folder, Hank didn’t see the time pass. Before he realised it, it was already the evening. That’s only when he saw Gavin leave with Conan that the reality struck him. It was already dark outside and… in the android’s eyes too, it was. The look he had on his face was strange, unreal. Connor would never look at him like that. 

_ ‘’But it’s not Connor.’’  _ Said a small voice in his head, like a cruel remember of the implications of Conan’s presence. Conan was here to replace Connor. He was an updated deviant that probably spent months in Cyberlife’s warehouse before the revolution forced them to let him go in the wild.

Anderson was wondering how many androids were out there, searching their place in the world, living with all its complications, with all its pains. Maybe, if they were lucky, they would live its joys too. Hank really wished them that. He hoped they were happy. The thought of any of them ending as one of the poor guys in those pictures was enough to make him shiver with unpleasance.

He kept looking at them, at the pictures. He could have sworn that at some point, Connor was on one of them. Of course, after drinking some water and looking at it again, it wasn’t him and it made Hank feel relieved. Connor was alive. He was fine. He would never be one of those people. Never.

Every minute that passed made the detective more and more tired, his hands felt heavy and his eyes struggled to stay open. He couldn’t clearly remember when he ended up head against his desk, one eye open, mindlessly re-reading the lines of the reports. In fact, he wasn’t sure what he was reading anymore, words, numbers. They all made a stew in his mind, he couldn’t form any thoughts anymore, each time, it made a little less sense.    


He closed his eyes.   
  
  
  
  


* * *

He woke up grumpy, his neck and back in pain. Falling asleep at his desk had been an obvious mistake. Despite his heaching body, it actually helped his brain, chasing away the storm in his mind. He stood up with difficulty and dragged himself to the coffee maker. The warm drink immediately made him relax. Of course, it was old by a few hours and was more luckwarm than anything but… there was a little something in this moment, alone in the whole building, some of the lights being turned off and others not. The devorous obscurity that he could see by the windows seemed infinite, as if outside was a whole other universe, a cold, sad one. 

Deciding to take a small break, he looked distractly at his phone while sipping on the bitter liquid. He actually had a few unread messages dating from maybe two or three hours. Gavin. Hank wasn’t even sure he wanted to read them, he had a bad feeling about it. For a second, he nearly deleted the younger man from his contacts, but decided to not do that, not for now, at least.

Asshole : hey hank   
Asshole : hank are you there

Asshole : hank please

Asshole : it’s really important

Asshole : did you forget to unblock me or something

Asshole : :(

Asshole : write me back please

  
  


He probably should have taken a moment to reread that, to actually think about it, about what he received, about what he wanted to send, but no. You shouldn’t ask so much to have a man who just woke up.

MrOld : i’m awake now what did you want to talk about ?

MrOld : gavin ?

Asshole : Hello, Lieutenant Anderson. 

He frowned. Was this a joke ? Was that really happening ? That was obviously not Gavin on the other smartphone. The detective couldn’t stop himself from reading the message in Conan’s voice. It could only be Conan, right ? Hank felt weird at this idea. It was the most logical explanation and it was bothering him that  _ it was _ that, that it was logical for his brain. Yes, he saw them leaving together, which was strange enough for people who barely knew each other but still, why was Conan on Reed’s phone ?

MrOld : where is gavin

MrOld : can i talk to him   
MrOld : conan i swear to god don’t fucking go check on people’s messages

Asshole : I apologize, Lieutenant, but I do not think Detective Reed is currently able to do that.

MrOld: and why not ? also i already told you, close this phone, it’s not your damn business

MrOld : is he okay

MrOld : conan

MrOld : is he asleep   
MrOld : are you still at his place

MrOld : that’s fucking creepy   
MrOld : conan ?   
MrOld : can you answer 

MrOld : hello ?

Hank was starting to run out of patience, or at least, the little he had. What the fuck was happening ? He was getting more and more worried as the seconds were passing, he could hear his heart beating in his chest. He felt sick. He was dizzy. He waited for a minute, then two, then three and then, it quickly became fifteen, still no answer.    
  
MrOld : fuck you

  
He turned off his phone. His hand went to one of the pockets of his coat, he grabbed one of the stolen granola bars and started chewing on it, frustrated and maybe even anxious. He gave a distracted look to all the sheets scattered all over his desk. The truth being, he wasn’t feeling comfortable just leaving that here without actual answers, he wanted to know what happened and he wanted to put an end to it.

Tonight wasn’t probably the right time to go in the field and examine the places where the bodies were found, in fact, he probably hadn’t the right to do so. It would have to wait until tomorrow. Maybe it was better this way. He was exhausted. He needed a pick-me-up, which is what led to his decision to go to Jimmy’s bar. Of course, he could have gone to Sawyer’s bar, which was, on its own, a wonderful place that would always have a special place in Hank’s heart, but it was far and he wanted to forget Gavin’s presence or rather, his unpresence. He needed a familiar place.

His disappointment was pretty big when he reached the building only to find : 

‘’TEMPORARILY CLOSED, WILL OPEN SOON’’

That was really a demonstration of his shitty luck. He couldn’t believe it. He would normally be angry, after all, he walked for nothing under the cold night but...he didn’t very strike him, maybe he wasn’t very inspired or maybe he didn’t like the idea of going there as much as he would have liked to believe. With a strange feeling in the bottom of his stomach, he turned on his phone, still no news of Reed or Conan. He couldn’t put words on his current emotions, he wasn’t sure he knew the chemicals in his brain currently. Should he send him a message ? Anything ? But what if it’s Conan again on it ? Is Conan deleting his messages ? Most importantly, why is Gavin letting that happen ? He didn’t need that. He didn’t want any of that, he already had his investigation. He rolled over his list of contacts, undecided at first, only to go to the last person he messaged, Connor. It’s been months since the boy disappeared, just like that. One day, he just… wasn’t there ? No letters, no calls, no texts, nothing. In fact, the first weeks of Connor’s disappearance, he tried to call, he sent texts, a lot of them, so many of them, but no answer. At some point, he stopped trying, he was too tired. 

But maybe.    
  
Maybe this time.   
  
Hank A. : ‘’How are you, son ?’’

  
  


It was a really stupid message, a really basic, cheesy one that even made Hank cringed, a lot. He turned off his phone again, he had enough, he was going home.

  
  
  


* * *

Hank was walking for a really long time, fast. Minutes were passing by, he was distracted. He took the wrong alley once or twice, he did a few wrong turns and tried to pass by some esoteric short-cuts. Now, the reality was that he was completely lost, lost and alone. The sidewalks were empty and no cars were passing by. Sometimes, for a second or so, Hank could have sworn he saw something, shadows moving under the stairs of a building, behind a dumpster, maybe he would have thought they were following him, if he had more imagination, if he had a reason for fearing for his life. Anderson just thought he lived long enough. It was probably a cat, anyway.

A cat.    
  
The detective bumped into it.   
  
Into the cat.   
  
The one ruining in the opposite direction, with the large shoulders, blond hair, scared face and knife

Hank would have loved for it to just be a big cat. 

‘’Go away ! Stay away, leave Ralph alone !’’ was yelling the non-cat android, moving the knife around, forcing the detective to stay a few meters away. He wasn’t sure he had the patience for that, it had been a long day and a terrible, painful evening. He just wanted to go home.

‘’Listen, I-’’ He couldn’t even continue, the blade going too close enough to his taste to his throat. Or maybe not close enough ?

‘’Stop ! Stop ! Ralph knows what the loners do at night ! He knows, he saw what they did ! They had coats like yours ! They started running after Ralph ! It was one of them at first but the others were hiding ! Ralph didn’t want to die, you see ? Ralph didn’t do anything bad, he deserves to be alive !’’

If it was possible at this very moment, the detective’s heart would probably implode or at least, throw itself in an endless migraine, but no. Nothing, not even a thought. What the endroid said crossed through Hank’s brain as if it was air. What was said was extremely concerning and maybe, if Anderson had a clear mind this night, he would have linked that to his current investigation. Sadly, it wasn’t this kind of night.

‘’Uh… Yeah… I’ll just go home. I don’t want any problem.’’ He was already thinking about Sumo and maybe a beer or two… Probably five, even.

At this moment, the WR600 seemed to have heard something Hank didn’t and from the way his eye moved, there was probably something he didn’t notice either in the background.

‘’Ralph has to go ! He needs to go ! Don’t follow him !’’ Said the blond man as he crossed the street, probably wanting to throw himself in the nearest allay that would allow him to hide. Hank gave him a quick look, slightly lost until he noticed strange marks on the android’s forearms. Small but familiar ones. Where did he see them before ? 

‘’Wait-’’ He tried to stop him, but couldn’t grab him in time, he was already too far. It was probably also a dangerous idea, if he took in account the knife that the gardener had. There was no way in hell Hank would be able to catch him, androids had illimited endurance.

Maybe it was better this way for tonight.

He couldn’t understand the guilt in his chest, though.


End file.
